Emmy Rossum: Been Too Long

When, she asked herself, did the internet become so fucking negative? She remembered a time, not so long ago, when she could read messages from gushing fans and lovesick boys and not worry about running into hate-filled screeds. A simpler time, she supposed, an easier time.

She sat in front of the computer, her face lit by the glowing blue screen, and knew it couldn't be sugarcoated any longer. Nearly every website bearing her name had been flooded with lies and innuendo by young women determined to destroy the reputation she had worked so hard to establish. It was working too, judging by the responses they got, and there seemed no way to stop it.

For a woman with a caustic tongue and superior but well-deserved attitude, it was reciprocity come at the absolute worst possible time.

What hurt the most was the knowledge that these so-called concerned fans weren't entirely off the mark. Her once-promising screen career had indeed stalled, forcing her to take stroke roles in garbage like Dragonball and Dare where she had only to jiggle and look pretty. Her musical aspirations--sparked by a starring role in The Phantom Of The Opera--had come to nothing, her critically acclaimed pop album a decided flop. And to rub salt in the wound, her agent had stopped taking her calls.

All because she wouldn't play the game: wouldn't spread her legs for the various producers, directors, and casting agents who held the keys to fame and fortune: wouldn't suck some third-rate rapper's dick in the vague hope that he might one day decide to produce a track for her.

"But Gwen played it right," her producer-boyfriend once told her. "And look where she is now. Nelly Furtado, Katy Perry, hell, even Ashley-fucking-Tisdale. They all did what they had to do, and look at them now."

"Good for them, but I'm not Gwen or Ashley," she retorted. "I'm me. I have standards."

"Tell me about it."

Now, at the tender age of twenty-one, Emmy Rossum had to decide whether or not to loosen her legendary standards. That she was classically trained, extraordinarily talented, and unnaturally beautiful made little difference. Nudity, her agent told her, was the only way to rejuvenate her flagging career. She could do it now, while she was still young and firm, and hope the buzz put her back on someone's radar--or look forward to a career in local theater with the occasional direct-to-video cheesecake role.

She could only imagine what her fans would say about that.

Her phone began to vibrate, hard enough to slide across the desktop and bring her back to the here and now. She snatched it up and found a crude text message from her know-it-all boyfriend: he wanted to know if she coming over tonight. Emmy snapped the phone shut and threw it on the bed. She took a deep breath, refocused, and calmed herself before she gave in and sent him a strongly-worded reply. "Good luck," she muttered.

She closed down her laptop and slid it into the charging station. Justin could be fun company at times, but lately all he seemed to care about was sex. Well, no, that wasn't entirely true. He also liked to spend her money.

Emmy sighed. So many problems, not many solutions. What she really needed was some time away from the city: away from Justin and her mom and all the trash-talking wannabe divas. A little vacation from the drama. She could get some sun, recharge her batteries, and come back stronger than ever.

She dashed laughing to her closet and started to pack. She had never done anything like this before, leaving everything and everyone behind without so much as a phone call to her mom. It was almost naughty.

<><><>

Emmy leaned back on her blanket and watched the sun sink beyond the horizon. It glittered on the choppy water and bathed her and her fellow beachgoers in soft orange light.

She felt great. In the morning she'd taken a long walk along the boardwalk, buying trinkets and snacking on fish tacos while the occasional man or woman or kid tried to hit on her. In the afternoon: a long swim in the sparkling water for some sun and much needed exercise. And now, with an old sweater pulled over her sticky body, her long hair damp and frizzy, she felt like a new woman.

Down the beach a group of men began to break apart, all except one: a tall, well-built black man who had been checking her out all day. It was because of him that Emmy left her long legs uncovered even though the air was growing colder by the minute, her string-bikini bottom catching his eye whenever she stretched and shifted. He lingered behind and watched her, but couldn't seem to gather up enough courage to come over and chat her up.

Emmy shook her head. It happened all the time. She was famous enough to be recognized in public, but not famous enough for anyone to actually know who she was and not assume they knew her from school or an old job at McDonald's.

The sun seemed to hang in the distance before vanishing. Emmy pulled off her sunglasses and dropped them in her bag. She stood and slipped her feet in a cheap pair of flip-flops she had bought earlier that day and folded her towel. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he did the same.

They met at the stairs that led up to the street. Emmy gave him an unconcerned glance, as if she could take or leave him, but checked him out all the same. His dark skin glistened in the dim light cast by the streetlights. He was a lot more ripped than he had looked from a distance.

"Hey," he said. "Name's James." He waited as someone passed between them. "I noticed you looking at me back there."

"Did you?" Emmy said in a haughty, slightly annoyed tone. Upper-class and Jewish, it was sometimes expected of her to be a little spoiled, a little bitchy, and she found she played the part rather well. Most men found it irresistible. "Well, James, I hope you weren't offended. I was merely taking in the view."

She switched her bag to the opposite shoulder and put a hand on her hip, having long ago mastered the art of physical flirtation.

James gave her an embarrassed smile. He was used to a different kind of woman, one who didn't come straight to the point. Emmy briefly considered coming out even straighter and telling him she really needed to have her pussy eaten, then decided the comic effect of watching him run away wouldn't compensate for not actually having her pussy eaten out.

"Thanks," James said. "I work out a lot. Nice to see it paying off."

"I don't," Emmy said. She scanned the beach over his shoulder, ever the disinterested rich girl. "I like to dance."

"It shows," James said. "You've got a great body."

Emmy touched his arm. He seemed to melt under her fingers. "You don't do this very often, do you?"

He laughed and shook his head. "So, uh, yeah." He inhaled. "I know we don't know each other all that well, but maybe we could get something to drink. If you don't want to, that's cool. Maybe I could get your number or something."

"You don't even know my name," Emmy said. "Maybe I'm a serial killer, luring men off the beach and burying them under the floorboards." She smiled to let him know she was joking. "But hey, life's about taking chances. My name's Emmy."

James grinned. "That's a pretty name." He didn't resist when she took his hand. "You like pizza, Emmy?"

"Love it," Emmy said.

She was happy to let him take the lead; it let her study him a little better. He was over six feet, in his late-twenties, and his body was nothing but muscle. Her pussy tingled when she tried to imagine just how big his penis had to be. She had little doubt that it was bigger, much bigger, than Justin's.

The restaurant was only a few blocks down the street, and was so casual that she didn't even have to put her shorts on before going inside. They wolfed down a small pizza while they talked and laughed, and touched much more than two strangers were expected to. An electric charge seemed to hang between them.

"Where to now?" James asked as they walked outside. He draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"It's such a beautiful night," Emmy said. "Let's go for a walk on the beach."

James couldn't hide his anticipation. "All right. I know a quiet place; not too many people this time of night."

They walked hand-in-hand down the beach and encountered only two others, a couple none too eager to meet new faces. Emmy and James truly had the beach to themselves.

Emmy dashed away into the water, laughing and shouting as she splashed around. She settled down and gave James a serious look, then grabbed the hem of her sweater and peeled it off to reveal firm breasts that were barely held in check by a ridiculously small black top.

"Whoa," James said. "No offense, babe, but those are some beautiful fucking tits."

Emmy blushed and cupped her breasts. "Yeah, they aren't all that big, but I think they're pretty cute." She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "You want to see them?"

James looked from side to side. "Uh, sure, if you really want to. It's just you and me out here."

Emmy laughed and briefly wondered what it would feel like to flash a stranger. She threw him her sweater then turned and dove under the water. She surfaced several feet away, water up to her chin, and waited for James to swim out.

"Here," she said, and threw him a wet bundle.

James sighed as he unfolded her bikini top in the silver moonlight. "Maybe I won't give this back," he said.

Emmy shrugged, then briefly ducked under the water. She came back up and spit a fountain of salt water at him. "Keep it," she laughed, and threw him the rest of her bikini. "Your turn now."

James looked around before reaching under the water and shifting around. He held up his shorts, grinned arrogantly, then threw their clothing in the general direction of the beach. Emmy almost hoped her bikini would float away. She was feeling naughty tonight.

She eased closer, a sultry smile on her face, and James gasped.

"You like that, don't you?" Emmy purred. She slid an arm around his neck for support while beneath the surface she tugged his rapidly hardening dick.

James grunted and pulled her tight against him. Emmy shuddered at the feel of his hard muscles pressed against her soft skin. He slid his hands down her back and squeezed her ass. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.

Their mouths met. Emmy opened up to him and invited his warm tongue inside. She stroked his cock, impatient to get it inside of her. James slid his fingers between her cheeks and gave her tight hole a gentle push. He was just as eager, but not so horny that he couldn't tease her a bit.

His head suddenly snapped back. "I don't have a condom," he whispered. Emmy gave him a reassuring kiss and tugged on his lower lip.

"That's okay," she whispered back. "I'm on the pill." She pulled away, took him by the hand, and led him back to the beach.

She waded out of the water and heard him groan when he got his first look at her supple ass. Emmy giggled and stopped at the waterline, then turned and fell to her knees in the wet sand. James towered over her, face full of unbelief as he took in her pretty face and firm breasts and dark pubic hair.

"I hope no one calls the cops on us," Emmy said, her eyes locked on his throbbing erection. She reached up, almost nervously, and took it in her hand. It was hard and warm and thick, and pulsed like a dam holding back great power. She didn't often sleep with black men, and wasn't used to something so big, but she stroked him with confidence and slowly warmed up to it. A drop of semen trickled out. Emmy smiled and took the head into her mouth. She moaned as she sucked, and glowed like an angel in the moonlight.

James made a noise somewhere between a moan and a pained cry and placed a hand behind her head. Not to guide her--she was much too good for that--but merely to be doing something.

Emmy sucked down half his length with each bob of her pretty brown head and stroked what wouldn't fit into her mouth. James trembled, his mouth open as if he were about to howl at the moon.

Emmy pulled her mouth off him with a slurp and gave his cockhead a last kiss. She had only been blowing him for a couple of minutes, but she didn't want him getting too far ahead. She gave him a smoldering look, then laid down on her back and spread her legs.

James needed little prompting and fell to her side. Emmy pulled him to her breasts. He kissed and mauled her globes like a crazed man. Emmy held him tight, moaning and writhing in sweet agony as he sucked and flicked her pink nipples with his tongue.

James slid his mouth down her body and caressed her flat belly and sensitive navel with his lips and tongue. He kissed his way through her tangle of dark curls, the salty smell of the beach mingling with her strong natural scent.

Emmy, trembling with anticipation, slowly opened and closed her legs. Her lover took her by the ankles and kissed his way down the insides of her thighs, flicking his tongue and nibbling on the sensitive flesh. Emmy was on fire. Her pussy quivered, eager to be filled once again by a real man. She smiled and thought of Justin. He would kill her if he found out she was playing around behind his back--and with a black man, of all people.

James slid his hands up her legs and took her by the hips. He took a deep breath, inhaling her scent, then mashed his mouth to her soaked pussy.

Emmy exhaled and tightened her hold on his head. "Yeah," she whispered. "Like that." She looked down at his face and winced as he stimulated her. "Eat it all up."

James sucked hard on her labia and worked her clit. He lived to serve her. Emmy curled her toes and moaned as his tongue rolled over her swollen vulva. She gasped and kicked her feet through the sand, shuddering and screaming as he sucked her clit between her teeth.

Anyone within hearing distance would recognize the sounds of a young woman being pleasured.

Emmy tried to speak, but no words would come. James released her clit and went back to her aching pussy lips. He slurped her up and down and drank in the sweet cum of a woman he had only met two hours ago.

Emmy gasped and went completely still. She closed her eyes and grimaced as her world fell away. It was a short orgasm, her first of the night, and she took deep breaths and wiped the spit from her mouth. When it was over, she smiled and looked into his eyes and held out an inviting hand.

James mounted her, heavy and warm, and gave her a deep kiss. Emmy tasted her own sweet pussy, smelled it on his breath, and moaned as she kissed him twice as hard. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his throbbing cock and stroked him until he moaned in her ear. He shifted until his cock slipped between her burning thighs. Emmy wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed his face while she guided him to her sex. She pushed the spongy head in place and reluctantly released him.

James clenched his jaw and eased himself into her warm body. He took it slow, the both of them gasping and moaning, until he was deep inside and could go no further. Emmy groaned as his heavy balls brushed against her sticky slit, shocked that she had taken him so easily. She chewed her lips and dragged her nails down his back. She'd never had something so big inside of her before; toys, of course, vibrators and dildos, but never something so alive and warm and pulsing.

James gave her a moment to grow used to him before he slowly pulled out. It was only a minor movement, but Emmy felt as if she were being torn in two. She wailed and shook her head and begged him to put it back inside. She promised to do things to him that she would never have fathomed had she been in a rational state of mind, had she not been cock-crazed. James laughed it off, clamped a hand over her mouth, and pushed back inside.

He pumped her gently and worked up a rhythm as Emmy bucked beneath him. He grunted and moved slowly, his balls already tightening. Emmy could see it in his face, could feel it in his movements. He was close, so very close, and Emmy smiled when he looked away. She was so damn beautiful that he couldn't even look at her without coming.

Still, he wouldn't slow down. He couldn't, not when he had a nice tight white girl to fuck. Emmy knew what was up, having done a fair bit of slumming in her time. He locked his face in a grimace and fucked her with hard, sure strokes that made her breasts flop. It was a race against time now.

"Fuck me," Emmy cried. She pressed her face to his. "Come on, baby, fuck me."

James pushed up on his elbows and looked into her face as he snapped his hips against hers and burrowed his cock deep into her furnace-like sex. He was so close he could barely breathe.

Emmy thrashed her head from side to side. "Your so fucking big," she gasped. "You're tearing me in two!" She arched her back and thrust her milky breasts into the air. "I'm going to come! You're making me come!"

James unleashed a mighty bellow and plowed her pussy so hard that tears ran down her cheeks. Her breasts flopped faster, rougher. Their bodies melted into one.

"Sweet mother--" James screamed, and somehow found the strength to pound her harder. Emmy bit into his shoulder and held on for dear life. James gasped for air and sucked in the scent of her hair and skin. Such a small thing, but it was enough to put him over the top.

He shuddered. His dick swelled, his balls contracted. Seconds later he burst inside her and poured thick semen into her scorching sex.

Emmy came again, digging her nails into his body hard enough to draw blood. She bucked wildly, her pussy in spasms, and gushed even as her lover was still pumping his cum into her body.

"You bastard," she whimpered. "You filthy black bastard."

They held each other as they came down. James rolled onto his side to watch her, his cock remaining firm and thick. Emmy, her breasts rising and falling in the moonlight, gave him an exhausted smile.

She waited for a couple to pass on the boardwalk, wondering if they could see her nudity from their vantage point, then slung a leg over his body and mounted him. She grinned, her teeth very white, and sank down on his cock.

"Not bad," she said. "But I think we can do better." She leaned down and kissed him. "Round two, coming up."

<><><>

Emmy stared at the ceiling, a sheet draped over her lower body, and listened as the shower came on. She was sore and tight, and couldn't stop smiling.

They had gone at it for some time, James pounding her doggy-style until a police car pulled up on the street and interrupted their fun. Luckily, she had noticed the headlights in time to grab her stuff and get out of there and back to the hotel, where she made it up to James by screwing him into a stupor and even letting him have her ass before they collapsed in a sweaty heap and slept the morning away.

Emmy was exhausted, but she forced herself out of bed anyway. She padded over to the sink, gargled some mouthwash, and stared into the mirror. Guilt washed over her as she thought of Justin. He could be an asshole sometimes, most times, but he was still her boyfriend. She had no right to--

James called out her name. Emmy closed her eyes and licked her lips, the reaction felt deep inside her belly.

She strode into the master bath and watched her lover's outline through a foggy glass door. His penis dangled long and thick between his strong thighs. Emmy slid the door open, a smile on her face, and stepped inside.